


Fantasia

by dee_thequeenbee



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Advent Calendar, F/M, Outlaw Queen Advent Calendar 2020 (Once Upon a Time)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27955640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dee_thequeenbee/pseuds/dee_thequeenbee
Summary: robin never died and regina is queen of the realms. they can't wait to spend christmas with their family, but they'll have to face one last enemy before they can finally celebrate.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood
Comments: 16
Kudos: 24





	Fantasia

**Author's Note:**

> the titles of the chapters are inspired by italian words from the music field. so this is my gift to you, a sort of quick symphony to wish you merry christmas and happy holidays! i know the world is a shitty place, but have this little story i kinda managed to write during difficult days - i hope it'll make you smile. many hugs, dee xx

**Fantasia**

_fantasy_. a musical composition or idea, typified by improvisation

Regina wakes with a start.

It was all so vivid – the images from her nightmare play again and again in front of her eyes, wide open in the darkness. Her hand slithers to her right, towards the other side of the bed, and it’s… it’s cold. As if the nightmares were real, it’s cold, as if he’s never been there after all, as if…

Light inundates the room, as abruptly as her sleep has ended earlier, and she sees a face she knows, a gentle yet concerned smile – a smile that’s so familiar, hears a voice she knows.

“Your Majesty?”

“Yes – yes, Anne, I’m awake,” she murmurs. “Is everything alright?”

Her maid tilts her head, questioning. “I am alright, ma’am. I just… I heard… never mind.”

Regina looks at her, but she’s avoiding her gaze now. “Anne, where’s…”. She gulps, and deep down she knows what she’s about to ask is stupid, that her dream was not real, but it _felt_ so real… “Where’s my husband?”

“He left a note, your Majesty, I… I haven’t read it, but I can bring it along with your breakfast?”

“Yes, please.”

She waits, as Anne scurries to retrieve the tray, and sure enough there’s a folded note next to her coffee. She excuses her maid, and takes the note, the coffee tastes of something like relief as she reads: _Went to see Roland, he had some kind of problem. I’ll be back soon! I love you_ , it says with Robin’s handwriting, as familiar as her own.

She shakes her head, and tries to forget her silly dreams.

– § –

**Allegro**   
_joyful; lively and fast_. moderately fast tempo

.

She is waiting for Robin, but he’s the last one to arrive.  
It’s Henry, and Lucy, and Ella, Alice, Margot – and her husband is nowhere to be seen, as her family pours into the castle.

“Hello, mom”, Henry says, kissing her cheek. “So, ready for Operation Ho-Ho-Ho?”

“The worst name ever, Muddy Brain,” Margot quips, and envelopes her in a hug. “Hello, aunt Regina. Slept well?”

“Actually, no,” she smiles, “but it’s not important at the moment, right?”

“Operation Deck The Halls sounds _so_ much better, dad,” Lucy is arguing with her father, as Ella starts to unpack the ornaments. “It’s a _castle_ , it has _halls_. It makes sense.”

Regina just watches as Ella comments, “Maybe you’re getting too old to name Operations, darling,” and Henry drops his jaw, a betrayed look on his face.

She feels the beginning of a smile form on her lips, but it becomes a full grin when she feels a well-known pair of arms envelope her from behind. “Hello, my darling,” Robin’s voice murmurs into her ear. “I’m sorry I am so late.”

Regina melts into his hug, true relief washing over her for the first time since this morning – everything is where it should be again. “You can file up a request for a Royal Pardon,” she whispers back, her head going to settle against his chest.

“The Prince Consort? I hardly think I’d need a pardon, my love,” he says. “But we must talk. I have news from Roland, and you are not going to like them.”

– § –

**Misterioso**   
_mysterious_. secretive, enigmatic

.

The apartment is quiet when she enters. Her snow boots are tidily placed by the door, the coat hung on the rack, the wool hat and the scarf folded up near the gloves.

“Let’s see how my little darlings are doing,” the woman coos, as her pets come running on the floor. They need to eat, her little pets, she’s been away all day. “Now, now, you know there’s plenty of food,” she says, almost annoyed, as she marches on towards her living room.

The fire place is empty – still, and cold, as the first ice is starting to encrust the window pane. The little snow globes on the shelves clink lightly as she walks towards the logs of wood.

“Winter is such a wonderful season, isn’t it?” she murmurs happily. “The perfect season to find many new friends.”

Her pets come running inside the living room – they are _famished_ , after all. The woman sighs, and sets herself to the task.

– § –

**Staccato**   
_detached_. where notes are distinct and separated from each other by short gaps

.

They had to put a stop to Operation Deck the Halls, after all. Roland’s troubles are much more worrying than she thought at the start, and she’s had to call a Small Council Meeting – she’s had to call Snow, and Mal, and Elsa and Jasmine, just the rulers she trusts to keep this new problem a secret.

“If it gets out of hand and we can’t solve it fast, we’ll have to tell all the Council, and all the Kingdoms will know,” she says.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Snow looks worried, and Regina knows once upon a time she would have loved to see that expression on her face, but now it just sickens her, because if Snow is this worried, it’s not a good sign. Snow sighs, and continues, “I wouldn’t want to be the one who has to tell Merida or King George that…”

“… people are disappearing,” Regina finishes. “As I would be the one who has to tell them, I’d rather see this dealt with before it escalates.”

She glances at Elsa, who’s been quiet the whole time while Mal, Snow and Jasmine were discussing animatedly. So she asks her, “Elsa? What do you think?”

Elsa breathes out slowly – her hand drums lightly on the table, and she answers. “I think… it’s all been so sudden, after all. You know Arendelle is the place where it all started, most likely, it’s the place with the highest number of people missing. I know you must probably think I ignored the reports for months, but that’s not what happened – my kingdom is so big, and it’s only after Roland visited and we had to go through the list that we noticed a pattern.”

– § –

**Vivace**   
_vivacious_. up-tempo, lively

.

Margot is walking through the halls of her aunt’s castle, when she hears a noise. She stops in her tracks – even though she knows who it is, she recognizes the steps. She slides in the shadows, waiting, because the person who’s following her probably hasn’t seen her yet.

And then, when the steps get closer, she faces the stranger.

“Hello, mother.”

The green flames Zelena has instinctively created die off in a split second, and Margot is suddenly being hugged and her vision is being blocked by a mane of red curls. “Hello, my sweet pea. Let me look at you,” Zelena says, pulling back. “So, darling, where’s Alice? Where’s my sister? We came as soon as we could.”

Margot looks above her mother’s shoulder, notices two other people she didn’t see earlier – Queenie and Robin of Locksley are smiling at her, and Margot squeezes her mother’s hand. Her family may be messy, but when there’s a problem, they always show up.

– § –

**Ostinato**   
_stubborn_. a repeated motif or phrase in a piece of music

.

“Absolutely not.”

“Robin, we already discussed this. You’re staying here, it’s final.”

A trunk is opened near her bed, and she’s throwing inside all sorts of things. Her potion kit was the first thing she took, some dresses, a couple of books – theory of magic and the like – but she feels out of sorts, and of course it doesn’t help that she’s fighting with her husband.

He plops down on the bed, a resigned look on his face, but there’s still fire in his eyes. “Let me come with you.”

Regina stops in her tracks, a fur muff still in her hands. “No, Robin. We talked about this…”

“To Arendelle, let me come. Let me help, you know I’m a good tracker.”

“I…” She sighs, her heart clenching. “I know. I know you are, but I don’t… I’d rather…”

Robin gets up, all of a sudden, and she’s almost startled. “My love, you remember what I told you that time we broke into your castle? I said you’ve got yourself a partner. I want to come, I want to help you.”

She feels the sting of tears in her eyes, doesn’t even realize they’re falling until his hand lifts her chin gently, his thumb captures a stray tear. “Robin, I… I don’t want you in danger, I…”

“We’d both be in less danger if we are together, love,” he reasons, but she doesn’t want to hear reason, she – her nightmare from last night is still so fresh in her mind, and…

“You were gone.”

“What?” his voice cracks, like delicate china.

“In my nightmare tonight, you were gone. You died when Margot was a baby, and I had to live my whole life without you.”

“Regina,” he whispers, pained, but she lifts a single finger to his lips.

“I don’t want to feel that way, _ever_ again. Can you –” she gulps, knowing that what she’s asking is too much. “Can you stay here where I know you’ll be safe?”

– § –

**Con brio**   
_lively_. with vigour

.

Regina has just left, with Zelena, Queenie, and Margot, and Alice. The witches have gone to Arendelle, to help Elsa and Mal with the mysterious disappearances that have started to plague this Yule celebration, and Robin is left to pace the halls of this fucking castle, alone and miserable and – well, he’s not alone, not completely, there’s his… twin, he supposes, and Henry and Ella and Lucy. But it’s not enough, not nearly enough, and he misses the house in Storybrooke with fierceness.

He’d love to be there, now, to set up a Christmas tree, to be able to see Regina in a pajama instead of her dresses – because as elegant and beautiful she is as the Queen of the Realms, sometimes he just misses his Regina, the unguarded happy relaxed version of Regina only he and her close family get to see.

A sudden idea strikes him – he will give her that. She looked so frazzled, before leaving, so worried after that dream of hers, he didn’t dare to follow her in secret. So he’ll give her that… he’ll go back to Storybrooke and he’ll have their home ready for Christmas before she returns.

– § –

**Ritornello**   
_little return_. a recurring passage in a piece of baroque music

.

News travel fast in the Realms, and the people of Storybrooke have gathered where they usually gather every time there’s a crisis: at Granny’s.

Grumpy, the other dwarves, Ruby, Dorothy, Granny, Archie, they’re all demanding answers: Snow sighs as she looks around, the Christmas lights they were supposed to hang up are lying in their boxes, seemingly forgotten.

“Why isn’t the government – the monarchy, I mean – doing nothing?”

“Why are people always disappearing?”

“Are our memories alright or I can’t even trust my brain?”

“… for the millionth time!”

Snow plops her head down in her hands and she squeezes her eyes close, leaving David to deal with the angry mob. She knows she should get up, she should tell them it’s going to be alright, Regina and the others are already working on it, and how in heaven did _they_ find out anyway?

Instead, she gets up, and rounds the counter to fix herself another hot cocoa.

– § –

**Capriccio**   
_caprice_. a lively piece, free in form, often used to show musical skill

.

The snow falls slowly, that night in Arendelle – but this time, Queen Elsa has nothing to do with it. Regina walks through the courtyard, her feet sinking in the white layer that has covered the grounds. The moon shines above her, casting a soft glow on the castle.

She hears someone calling – she hears a faint _Your Majesty_ , but she pays it no mind, her gaze focused on the strings of lights and candles lit up at the windows, the stars punctuating the sky like an embroidery. The sky is terse tonight, with a blue hue that gets lighter around the shades of the trees.

“Where are you?” she whispers.

Her murmur slithers through the cool winter air and curls up to the sky, her message fluctuates towards her subjects who have disappeared. Magic frizzles at her fingertips, gentle flames like souls at her fingertips, and she wishes she knew some kind of spell that could solve her problems.

A fleeting thought – she should get inside, it’s starting to get chilly – and Roland may be her son, but as the Ambassador of the Queen he’s taking his role very seriously, especially the part where he promised his father that he’d help her stay safe.

One last glance at the moon, and then everything becomes black all at once.

She passes out, she falls in the darkness.

– § –

**Solo**   
_alone_. a piece or performance to be played by a single musician

.

“ _We’ll keep them here_  
 _inside with me_  
 _we’ll rejoice together_  
 _quite nicely!_ ”

The woman sings quietly to herself, as she rocks slowly on her rocking chair. Her living room is silent, the fire crackling is the only sound she hears. Her pets are still outside, playing in the snow. In her eyes, she knows there’s the reflection of what she sees – the flames and the moon shining on her snow globes.

Her prized collection, her pride and joy – she lets her gaze jump from one globe to the other, cheerfully, looking and counting – she rocks and counts and rocks, and keeps singing.

“ _We’ll keep them here_  
 _and then they’ll know:_  
 _when the Queen is silent_  
 _the story is told_.”

– § –

**Con fuoco**  
 _with fire_. in a fiery manner

.

Her prison is small, and uncomfortable, and she is pissed. It’s cold, inside, the walls are just about to sprout snowflakes in her face – Regina seethes with rage, trying to get free, trying to send blasts of magic against the chains that keep her frozen in place.

Whoever trapped her inside this prison didn’t know whom they were dealing with.

Her hand curls around a small flame, flickers of fire dancing in her palm. She still has magic. It’s dulled, as if this cell is draining up her emotions, even her anger, making them soft and opaque; but it’s there – clearly, whoever it was who took her didn’t care enough to dampen her magic, it’s something they forgot to do. This fire will burn and send them ablaze, in time. She just has to make it grow.

– § –

**Intermezzo**   
_interval_ . a short connecting instrumental movement

.

Lucy is at the library, today.

She wishes Belle were here – she remembers her, she was kind and thoughtful, and she would have known where to find the information Lucy needs.

Instead, no one is here to help – the thing is, no one knows she is here. She broke into the library, because her grandpa taught her how, and anyway it’s more fun this way. She knows her dad will have a stroke if he finds out she’s missing – but they wouldn’t have let her go alone, and honestly, she’s tired of being cooped up at home. She doesn’t need to be protected anymore.

But she knows everyone is worried about her grandma, and it will do no good if she makes them worry about her as well, so she starts to pack up her things, collects a couple of books: the first one she takes, the most important, is called _Villains of the Past_. There is an entire chapter about her grandma here, and one about Zelena, about Cora, and Pan, and half a dozen chapters about Rumplestiltskin. So if there is a book that will tell her whom they’re up against, it’s going to be this one. For sure.

Lucy shuts the light, and starts walking home.

– § –

**Glissando**   
_gliding, glossing_. a sweeping glide, used for dramatic effect

.

Robin is pacing – he hasn’t stopped since word has reached him that Regina has disappeared. There are people in his house, the house is full of people – people who try to tell him that she’s going to be fine, that she’s been through much worse in her life and it won’t be this particular ordeal that’s going to stop her.

But he can’t hear. It’s like there’s a veil between him and the others: Emma, and his daughter, and even Zelena, they have all come back – the witches have scattered around the Realms, all in search of the Queen.

His gaze lingers on the tree he made last week with Lucy, on the presents underneath. The house tastes of gingerbread, but the smell is duller now. If he loses her – _if_ – he doesn’t even want to think about it, to visualize the thought in his mind.

A faint sound sweeps through the fog in his brain. The doorbell.

He stops in his tracks, knowing that someone will go and open up the door, this house has always been like a maritime port, and today more than ever.

A hand curls on his arm – Margot’s voice, “Dad? Dad, there’s something for you,” and he nods, Robin, he follows blindly as Margot leads him towards the door. Snow is there, looking at him with worried eyes.

“What is it?” his voice cracks, he almost doesn’t recognize it.

“It’s a parcel with your name on it,” he hears Alice’s voice from behind him. He kneels down, his hand going to untie the red ribbon around the parcel.

“You’re sure it’s safe?” Snow asks. “It could be something… dangerous, we should probably… I don’t know, Margot, can we examine it with magic or something first?”

“Let me,” it’s Zelena, and Robin stills his hand as she joins him, she’s biting her lower lip, her blue eyes showing how much she’s worried for her sister – probably almost as much as he is. The parcel glows of green for a moment, and the light abates. Zelena shakes her head. “It’s clear.”

Robin nods, wordlessly, and the red ribbon falls. He tears through the paper that envelops the parcel, because it could hide information about Regina, and he has to see, he has to know –

He can almost feel the people surrounding him, as they hold their breath. There’s a smaller package inside, cardboard, and he lifts the lid slowly, looks inside.

It’s a small snow globe.

And inside – there’s Regina.

– § –

**Lacrimoso**   
_lachrymose_. tearfully

.

He keeps looking at her, thinking that he’s never felt so helpless. She is sitting on the ground, inside the snow globe, with minuscule blue flames fluctuating around her, flames of her making, working to keep her warm.

The house is decidedly less full now – Emma and Zelena went to find a way to communicate with Regina, Snow has made herself a cup of tea and then headed to the castle with David, and he stayed with Henry, and Ella, and a guilty-looking Lucy. He wonders what she’s been up to.

Regina splays her tiny hand against the glass. Her lips move, but he cannot see clearly, he only sees her impossibly sad eyes and the look she casts upon him. He presses his little finger against the glass, trying not to cry. “I love you,” he murmurs.

Margot’s hand curls around his shoulder.

“Dad, I’m going to see if I can help the others. I’ll be back soon,” she says, and he nods, her words swimming in his brain like aimless fish.

There’s a commotion in the hall – noises and people shouting, and his instinct makes him want to curl his hand around Regina to protect her.

“What do you _mean_ you haven’t seen it before, you moron?”

“Dad!”

It’s Roland – his boy, he runs inside towards him and Regina, holding something in his hand. It’s a letter.

His hand tears through the paper, he spies Regina leaning towards the glass, trying to see for herself what’s happening.

_Dear your Highness the Prince Consort or however I am supposed to call you,_

_Merry Yule Christmas or whatever you celebrate! May this gift enlighten the season: I find the Queen much more tolerable in this form._   
_Good luck bringing her to her true annoying self! And most of luck finding all the missing people._

_Sincerely,_   
_Marinka Alexandra Yaga Dobrovskaya_

– § –

**L'istesso tempo**   
_the same time_. at the same tempo

.

Alice holds the snow globe with her aunt inside so carefully, that Margot captures a fleeting thought between all her worries: she may have just fallen for her all over again. The candles float around them in Regina’s vault, Queenie and Zelena are uncharacteristically silent as they watch.

_Emma looks at Robin, one quick glance, another to her father as they hold their swords and bows and Emma raises her hand, ready with her magic._

The book Lucy has taken from the library lies in front of them, open at a very important chapter: the face of Baba Yaga stares at them from the pages, and the witch’s daughter’s name is right there underneath.

_“Marinka! Get out and face us!” David shouts, his shoulder ready to force the door open._

Alice’s lips tremble as she forms the enchantment at her fingertips. The snow globe rattles on the ground, Zelena crouches down, her green fog going to stabilize the kind of bright untamed energy that is Alice’s magic. And they hear it – they hear Regina’s scream.

_“She’s not here,” Emma says, breathless, when they enter. The fireplace is as cold as the winter outside, snow flurrying from the almost-opened window. A ticking of little paws from upstairs. The shelves are empty – Marinka isn’t here. But – what is that glint in the corner?_

_Robin walks in, and Mal stops him with her arm._

_“Let the magical ones go first. Your wife will have our head on a plate if something happens.”_

“Sis?” comes a voice, cracking mid-way. “Regina?”

“Can you hear us?”

_Mal makes fire, a ball forming in her hand, because fire is the answer when you face the cold. Elsa’s soldiers are outside, she feels the captain of the guard’s breath with her dragon senses – Mal teleports to the first floor, and sees the witch’s pets in a corner. Salamanders._

“Let me out!” they hear her scream, the snow suffocating her words. “Margot, the – the blue book inside the trunk!”

They scramble to take the book, and sure enough there’s an incantation – to grow small things. A couple of pages later, another one: to crack a frozen heart, to crack an impossible glass.

“Mother,” Zelena whispers. It’s magic from Wonderland, and it has Cora’s signature all over it.

_Mal calls for Emma, she found a snow globe in the corner, a single one, forgotten by the witch._

_“Mal? What’s happening?”_

_“She’s still here. I can feel it.”_

– § –

**Crescendo**   
_growing_. becoming louder

.

The fire growls in Queenie’s hand as she throws it up, suspended mid-air.

“Let’s get this over with,” she announces, Zelena nodding alongside her. “Come on, Alice, Margot. Read that damned spell and get her out.”

“Ready with the fire,” warns Margot. “You’ll have to fight the snow once it’s out.”

“That won’t be necessary,” a voice comes. “I’m right here.” Elsa rolls up her sleeves, her long braid tossed carelessly on her back. “I got your message.”

Margot nods, her arms strained with the intensity of the magic. “Ready?”

“I was born ready,” her mother answers, waiting, on edge, the green pulsing in her hand. “Merry fucking Christmas, stupid witch.”

The snow globe grows and grows, and rotates, as the glass cracks. “Now, control it,” Queenie warns Alice, sends waves of magic to tame the bright energy, and the ball becomes giant, Regina’s hands pressed against the walls. “Crack the egg! Now!”

Alice nods, sweat on her forehead, and an horrible screeching sounds surges from the snow globe – the crack grows, and grows, the furious snow raging on the outside, _Now, Elsa!_ , someone screams. The queen’s arms lift as she clutches the storm, curling it up in a ball, subsiding it, taming it, and Zelena catches Regina who falls ahead, right as the glass opens for good.

“Are you alright?” she asks at her sister, above the snow storm that Elsa is slowly whipping down to a small cloud.

Regina doesn’t answer, she just nods, her forehead pressed against her sister’s shoulder. “Margot – the glass jar, up there, take it,” she motions, and Alice summons it, together they push the small snow storm inside the jar, trapping it again.

Zelena looks at her sister, at the angry tears rolling down her cheeks. Her voice, however, is steady as she rises and speaks.

“Let’s go end her.”

– § –

**Maestoso**   
_majestic_. stately

In less than half the time it took to exit the globe, they reach Marinka’s house in Arendelle. Regina finds Mal upstairs – her arms strained by the effort, because she’s keeping all the salamanders steady and still, frozen in place with a spell.

“She’s transformed into one of them,” Emma says, glancing at the Queen. “A salamander. Mal can feel it, you know… amphibians, reptiles, all that jazz.”

“You’re sure?”

Emma nods, but her next words are drowned by a shout – “Regina!” she hears, and then her vision is blocked, by someone holding onto her for dear life.

“Robin,” she breathes against his neck, hugs her husband, his hands pressed against her back.

“You’re back,” he murmurs into her ear. “I thought you were gone –”

“I’m sorry I left you behind, I should have –”

“Your royal highnesses, if you please,” Mal’s mocking voice comes with a tense quality, and they both turn their heads towards her. “Witch first. Kisses later.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Robin says sheepishly. “Go on, love,” he gives a squeeze to her hand, then lets it go. “Take care of this so we can go celebrate Christmas.”

Regina nods, turning towards Mal and Emma. She narrows her eyes, and rolls up her sleeves. “Alright, you bitch. Time to face the music.”

Her hair flies around as she summons the magic. The spell is complex, and normally it would put a strain on her, but right now – she doesn’t care. The words she chants are ancient and weaved together, the room falls into silence as she sends flames of magic and rage against the salamanders.

The fire won’t hurt them – they love fire, they thrive whenever they’re near a fire, so Regina sends pinnacles of ice and pain, light and dark magic, and the more the salamanders writhe, the more she stands tall and erect, her hands lifted as she takes over from Mal.

The wind whips her face, a circle of cold and warmth around her, until the salamanders fly up in horrible screeches. They fall, one by one, until the one in the furthest corner screams louder than the others, glows and lifts up in a blinding light.

The light abates, as quick as it came – Marinka is on the floor, and is watching them.

– § –

**Decrescendo**   
_shrinking_. becoming softer

.

Robin will soon find out that he doesn’t remember much of that evening. He remembers Regina, clear as day, as she took care of this pesky problem with the same grace and power he’s come to associate with her in the last few years.

And he knows Marinka is going to rot in a very secure, very magic-proof cell until the Queen of the Realms will see fit to start her trial – and that’s going to be after Yule, rest assured, Regina has said. The daughter of Baba Yaga, came to their realms to mess up with their life, just because she could – she didn’t have a personal vendetta, didn’t even meet Rumplestiltskin.  
She’s just crazy, and angry about what happened to her mother. Years of resentment that have brought Regina and the newfound peace between the realms near a dangerous slope, and Robin can’t find it in himself to forgive her so soon. (He did forgive Zelena, after all, eventually, but it took them years of work and meetings with Archie).

Regina sees Marinka to her cell personally, leaving the salamander disaster to Emma and Queenie, and leaving Elsa, Alice and Margot in charge of the dozens of snow globes they found in the basement. The stolen people will return to their families, just in time for Yule.

And they couldn’t be more grateful for it.

He knows there’s still work to do – it’ll be some days before Regina can curl next to him in their living room, in front of the fire, without a care in the world. But that day will come, soon enough, and he can’t wait to see it. 

– § –

**Andante**   
_walking_. flowing

.

“You need to take it easy, my love,” Robin says, and she can hear the worry in his words. “You heard the doctor – he says otherwise it’s bed rest until Christmas.”

“Don’t do that, Robin. You know I make cookies with Lucy every year.”

“Your Majesty, I think he’s right,” Anne says, and she clearly doesn’t want to displease the Queen, but she’s brave enough to speak her mind. “You should rest, we wouldn’t want to see you passing out again.”

It has been at the Council Meeting just after the whole Marinka ordeal. He had noticed that Regina looked a bit flushed, but he’d blamed it on the fire, ablaze to warm up the endless rooms in the castle. And then she’d fallen, and one of the doctors from Wonderland had ordered her to rest, because the strain and effort of being trapped in a miniaturized form and then the fight against the witch had been too much for her body. Snow had commented that after years of magical fights, it was a wonder that Regina hadn’t collapsed earlier.

And so it left him here – with a stubborn queen, who refused to rest and to let someone else do the job.

“You can make cookies with Lucy. But _sitting down_. And I’ll help with the heavy lifting, alright?”

“I guess,” she mutters, crossing her arms. “You two can stop ganging up on me now.”

Anne smiles, and nods, murmuring _If you don’t need anything else, I’ll go_ , and exits the room. Robin sits on the bed – he is worried, after all, but the worst is behind them.

– § –

**Festoso**   
_festive_. jolly

.

Regina looks around the room, a warm feeling spreading in her chest. There’s the whole family, here, around the table. They managed to convince Snow that a Christmas Eve in Storybrooke was exactly what they needed – normalcy, and something simpler than a feast in a castle – and the house is big anyway, there’s plenty of room for everyone.

She watches, the silliest of smiles on her lips. Only after a while she notices Robin watching _her_ , instead of the merry party that is their family.

“What?” she whispers in his direction. He shakes his head fondly, and she thinks she can see a glimmer of tears in his eyes.

“Nothing, love. I’m just… grateful, I guess.”

“Right,” she smiles. Leave it to her sappy husband to express those same emotions she feels – but then, she _feels_ deeply, so hidden in her depth that it’s hard to lead them to the surface. Robin is more of an open book, he gives so freely, and has never been afraid of searching for those same emotions in her depths.

He squeezes her hand, then – she knew he’d do it – he rises, glass in hand.

“A toast,” he says, the noise and chatter die off, as if everyone is somehow sensing how solemn the moment is. “To Regina – for being an amazing ruler, and a precious person we’re lucky… not to have lost,” her heart tightens, she finds his hand, “and to the whole family, for being here, to celebrate together. I know it has been hard, this past month – but we’ve managed to get through it, and I know it’ll go better and better.”

There is noise and well wishes and glasses clinking, as Robin sits down, but Regina ignores all that. Her eyes are only for the man sitting beside her, and suddenly, she finds she needs to be alone with him. 

– § –

**Con amore**   
_with love_. with love

.

She teleports them to the forest – her sudden need for a quick walk in the woods was met by her family’s knowing smirks, but she paid them no mind as she took Robin’s hand and led him outside.  
They walk towards their destination, but she sends tendrils of magic ahead.

“You’re going to tell me why we are in such a rush, my love?” Robin says, amused.

“We are in no rush, I don’t know why you got that impression,” she answers in kind. “Just… as much as I love that cluster of people we call family, I felt like I needed to be alone with you for a moment. Since I… was freed from that blasted snow globe… I feel like I barely spoke to you for more than two minutes.”

“And yet I recall hours of not-speaking, last night,” he laughs.

Regina rolls her eyes – of course he’d say that – but then she notices where they are, and slows down.

Their clearing, their trunk, the place where they kissed for the first time. And her magic has done what she could not, and draped curls of silver and gold on the trees, and lighted floating candles. She stops, weaves their fingers together.

“Merry Christmas, Robin.”

He doesn’t answer, but captures her lips in a kiss, so tender she thinks she may just pass out on the spot.

“You know,” he murmurs against her skin, “you are extraordinary.”

“And I love you. I am so lucky to have the privilege of loving you.”

He chuckles, lifts their intertwined hands to her heart. “You know, if we weren’t married already, I’d ask you to marry me right this instant.”

Regina feels her heart swell – she doesn’t know what to say. But… she can show him, she thinks, kissing him again, until he has to resurface to take a breath. He looks at her with a soft smile, and answers.

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

.


End file.
